


The Royal Valley

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2017 [22]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 12:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which Illya and Napoleon have no idea where they are after a run-in with THRUSH.





	The Royal Valley

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt 22 of Inktober for Writers: Lost

“Napoleon!”

Napoleon stirred, flinching at the headache he had. Had he been drinking? No… He remembered being on a mission with Illya; he wouldn’t have been drinking on duty. That left only one other option—he had been waylaid.

“Napoleon, wake up!”

He felt Illya’s gentle hand on his face; be reflex, he lifted his hand to touch Illya’s.

“Napoleon!”

He opened his eyes now, but was confused as he saw nothing but darkness.

“Can’t see…” he murmured.

“I know, Napoleon; we have been locked in an underground passage,” Illya said. “There is no light here.”

“Where?”

“…I don’t know,” Illya confessed. “I was knocked out like you; I woke up here first. For a horrifying moment, I didn’t know where you were. Fortunately, I found you fairly quickly, and I shall never berate you for wearing that much bay rum ever again. How are you feeling?”

“…Terrible.”

“I understand; I am still recovering, as well,” Illya said. “We need to find a way out of here, Napoleon—wherever we are. They’ve taken our communicators and trackers; we’re on our own for this.”

“Well, at least we’re together; that’s improved our odds significantly. Help me up,” Napoleon said.

“Are you sure you can stand?” Illya asked.

“We have to,” Napoleon said. “Either they left us here to die, or they’ll be back. We need to find a way out before either of those things happen.”

They were both a little wobbly on their feet, but, together, they were able to support each other as they walked through the passageway. Finally, they reached the end—and hit a large stone door. Together, they pushed on it; it took several minutes, but they finally opened it enough to escape into the night—and stopped as they saw a large, black Egyptian Mau meowing at them—one that looked like their own Mau, Baba Yaga, but larger.

“…Bastet?” Napoleon asked.

She meowed again, and the duo turned around, seeing the painted stone door of an ancient tomb.

“Well… At least now, we know where we are?” Napoleon offered.

“Attempting to seal us in an ancient Egyptian tomb,” Illya muttered. “Just when I thought that they could sink no lower…”

Bastet hissed.

“Something tells me Bastet here will make them pay for it,” Napoleon noted. “Very well, my dear, we’ll leave it in your hands… er, paws. And we’ll be sure to give your greetings to your daughter.”

The cat gave a regal meow.

“…Does this mean we get three wishes each again?” Napoleon asked.

“Meh.”

“…Just checking.”

“Don’t be greedy; I’ve still got my three wishes,” Illya said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s find a phone and contact Mr. Waverly.”

Napoleon shrugged, and the two partners headed out of the Valley of the Kings.


End file.
